Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Eleanor
You can tell a lot about a person by the way they prefer their s’mores.
S taring out over the seemingly endless water, I wrap my arms around myself, suppressing a shiver as a breeze rolls in and kisses my skin. Hunter appears next to me and skims his fingers down my arm, leaving a trail of heat along my flesh.
“Are you cold?”
Yes, but not from the temperature. It’s late afternoon, and the sun is out in full force today. “You didn’t tell me we were going to be next to a lake.”
He moves in front of me, blocking out the body of water causing my terror. Baths weren’t the only things Jonathan utilized in his cleansing rituals. I can appreciate a still lake, admire the power of the sea, observe flowing rivers, and study sparkling ponds, but you won’t find me relaxing and sleeping next to one. At least, I didn’t think I would.
“The kids will join us tomorrow. They love it. Plus, Charlie sees a puddle and thinks it’s the best thing ever.”
Said pooch is jumping around in the shallows, living his best life. I wrinkle my nose. “He’s a dog, not a fish.”
“He’s a goofball, but you don’t have to live in the water to enjoy it.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
His fingers tip my chin up, his eyes bouncing between mine. “Is it triggering for you?” Yes. I stare into his gaze and will the word past my lips. To give voice to my fears. To break the pattern I’ve fallen into. To no longer be adept at hiding them. His brow furrows as his thumb sweeps across my cheek. “I can move our tent farther into the forest. Will that help?”
“Closer to the spiders and bears?”
His lips twitch. Why is my fear funny? “I promise to protect you from the spiders and bears.”
“If you really want to protect me, you could take me home. Nothing says safe like a triple-locked door.”
He gifts me with a kiss in place of my actual desire to escape. “I’ll move the tent. Can you help Cheryl unload the food?”
I nod. Given the signal out here is non-existent, I don’t have anything else to distract me, and being cut off from the world is terrifying. Almost as much as sleeping next to a freaking lake. Hunter disappears down the beach, and Cheryl gives me a soft smile as I approach the truck she is unloading with the help of two other women, one being Rose, her daughter, who gives me a curious look. They are all doing that; side-eyeing the strange hacker woman who has the attention of their VP. I feel exposed that I’m not wearing any masks right now. Judged.
“You feeling better?” Cheryl asks as she scans me from head to toe.
I was... “Yes.” No need to freak everyone out with my tales of horror.
Cheryl narrows her eyes. She is a lot like Hunter, seeing too much even when I give so little. “Can you take these over to the fire the boys are building?” She hands me a couple of heavy duffle bags which I cart over to the impressive bonfire they have already amassed. Most of the camp is set up, since we arrived late to the party. Guilt at letting others do the hard work is probably the right emotion, but I’m happy to spend as little time here as possible.
William takes the heavy bags from my hands, and I breathe a sigh of relief. My arms still ache from the release of rage. “You ever been camping before?”
My nose wrinkles. “I’m more of a five star hotel girl.”
He laughs, dropping both bags on the ground. “Hopefully we can surprise you.”
Doubtful. I give him a small nod as Hunter appears with another guy, each gripping the end of a long tree trunk. “Found the seating,” Hunter rumbles as he slides his gaze over me. It causes a lick of heat to trail down my spine. He stares like he hasn’t seen me in days, not minutes. There’s a tether tugging me toward him, wherever he is, and it’s disorientating. Something I have never experienced before. I’ve made a living out of avoiding people, and even the few I’ve allowed in have never been like this.
The next hour is a flurry of activity flowing around me while they get their belongings tucked away in their respective tents and start up the barbecue. Everyone seems to know their role and what they’re expected to do. They move seamlessly together, and I feel like a barrier they need to adjust around. A few people make polite conversation but don’t intrude too much or too deeply, which I appreciate.
The sun begins to sink over the lake by the time we are enjoying burgers served on napkins. Hunter is a gentleman, ensuring I always have a drink in reach, alternating between Dr Pepper and water. My heart squeezes. I can’t remember anyone ever paying this much attention to me to know what my true preferences are.
The chit chat spans from events Cheryl is planning for the approaching Halloween season, to the upcoming retirement of the preschool teacher, Lorraine. There’s never a lull in the conversation and laughter is abundant around the fire. This is an MC? The two night camp out is always one night for the adults, and another for the full family. I wonder if Steph has ever been to one. It’s sad to think she’s missing out on a relaxed bunch of people enjoying casual inside jokes and yummy food. The atmosphere is unthreatening and disarming, much like the man that hasn’t left my side, and I find myself leaning against him as the sky bruises. Charlie lies on my feet, perfecting our little unit. This dog has stolen my heart as much as Hunter has. I think Charlie managed to steal it first, perhaps it’s because dogs don’t have ulterior motives, and they love without reservation. All they want is yours in return.
An unfamiliar man takes the spot on my free side. He’s an older guy, somewhere in his sixties, with a long gray beard and a bald head. He’s kept himself in shape, as have all the men I’ve seen.
“Ian, this is Eleanor,” Hunter says. Unusual. He hasn’t introduced me to the others in the group. Not that they haven’t been friendly, but they all know my name already.
“Hi,” Ian says with a little wave.
“Hi.”
He tilts his head as he takes a bite out of his burger. “You know of Project Blue Book?”
That’s quite the introduction. I think I might like him.
Hunter stifles a laugh. “Ian, we talked about this.”
“Yes, it’s the code name for the US Air Forces’ study of UFOs which ran from 1953 to 1969,” I offer.
Ian gobbles the last of his burger and smirks. “Over seven hundred objects remained unidentified.”
Seven hundred and one, to be exact.
“What do you think? Are we alone?”
“Jesus Christ, Ian,” Hunter mutters.
I twist to give the excited man my full attention, and Hunter’s arm slips around my waist, keeping me grounded and with him. “In terms of the entire universe, the probability we are alone is less than one in ten billion trillion. So, no I do not think we are alone.”
Ian leans his elbows on his knees and glances around before beckoning me toward him. “Do you think they have visited here?”
“I think it is more likely we are not the first advanced species to exist on Earth. Perhaps they left our planet or, more likely, were wiped out by a catastrophic event. In fact, there is evidence this may have happened multiple times.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with my trouble?” Hunter asks, resting his chin on my shoulder.
Ian wipes a hand over his mouth as he contemplates my words. “Your theory isn’t that aliens have visited us, but that we are simply a generation of humanoids?”
“The ninth, at least, according to the evidence.” I lean forward. “But more importantly, what if we are the alien species put on this planet as an experiment?”
Ian sucks in a shocked gasp. “That’s certainly an interesting theory.”
I wink at him. “Theories are the prelude to uncovering the truth.”
Hunter squeezes my waist. “Okay, trouble, let’s get some s’mores while we wait for the men in black.”
Ian whoops like this is the best news of the night and jumps up to collect a bag of marshmallows and some long metal sticks with wooden handles. He passes them to me and Hunter, then he’s off to talk to someone else about aliens.
“You are a constant surprise,” Hunter says.
“Why?” I think I’m pretty predictable.
“Some stranger opens up with his crackpot theories about ET and you humor him.”
“I did no such thing.”
His hand cups my face and turns it toward him, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Eleanor Austin, do you believe in aliens?”
“Only arrogant fools believe we are all alone, and only idiots convince themselves we are the most advanced species in the universe.”
He shakes his head and runs his lips over mine. There’re a thousand unspoken promises in his kiss, ones I want to steal and hold close to my heart for all time. “How do you like your s’mores?” he asks.
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve never had them?”
I shake my head, a little embarrassed. It’s another thing I seem to be missing from the traditional suburban childhood. He slides a couple of marshmallows onto the end of my stick and does the same to his. “Put them on the edge of the fire like this.”
I observe how he delicately cooks his marshmallows, twisting until the soft sugary treat starts to color. “Some people like them done lightly, but I prefer them almost black, with little crunchy bits on the outside and gooey goodness on the inside.”
I follow his lead and sample one of my marshmallows with a little color. Damn, that’s good. They are addictive, my body already craving the one remaining on my stick. I leave my final one in a little longer, mirroring Hunter’s preference and groan at the result. Yes, that’s so much better.
There’s light-hearted laughter and a low buzz of happiness surrounding the fire as couples cozy up under the blanket of stars. William has his guitar out and plays quietly as he hums a familiar rock tune. A shiver rolls over my shoulders, and I notice the chill settling in the air for the first time.
Hunter drops a kiss on my temple. “Wait here; I’ll go grab a blanket. The temperature tends to drop more out here.”
Then he’s up and moving into the dark expanse of trees behind me. Do bears come out at night? Spiders do. A full-body shudder racks through me, disturbing Charlie at my feet. Hunter better have zipped our tent up, or I’m sleeping in the truck.
William suddenly stops playing, and when I glance up, he’s frowning at my hands. Oops. He’s off his feet and striding toward me before I can excuse myself and take my chances with the bears.
He offers me his guitar, and I push my hands between my knees and arch a brow at him.
“You play.”
Not a question, but I still answer to try to finish this conversation before Hunter reappears. “Yes. But not well.”
“No one cares how well, Eleanor. Play for us.”
“I don’t do audiences.”
He raises a brow, and for the first time, I understand how he has climbed to the top of an MC and manages to rule without violence. I huff and take the instrument from his hand, ignoring the smug smile on his lips. Settling it on my lap, the familiar weight washes away some of my fear and anxiety from the day. I strum each string a little and make tiny adjustments to the tuning.
“What do you want me to play?” I ask, not looking up from the strings.
“Ladies choice, but I’ll be shocked if it’s not cheesy pop.”
Challenge accepted.